


Heat of the Moment

by coolbreeze1



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbreeze1/pseuds/coolbreeze1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine trading mission on a stiflingly hot planet takes a turn for the worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat of the Moment

_Present time…_

“I’m going for help,” Rodney McKay announced.

Teyla glanced up at him and watched him wipe the sweat dripping down his flushed face and into his eyes. He took a swig of water from his canteen before handing it over to her. Teyla nodded her gratitude and tried to plead with him to hurry. Rodney nodded back, knowing the urgency of the situation, and headed out of the village and back toward the stargate.

Teyla stood up, stretching her aching back. She stared at the small metal structure sitting in the middle of village square, and wondered what kind of people would created something so sinister and place it in a place of such high importance as the center of the village. The building had seemed innocuous at first glance, a box five feet high on all sides made of thick metal slats. It’s true purpose seemed to be some kind of public cage, although to be fair, she knew they would never really know what it was used for.

“Aaaaaahhhggggg!”

Teyla shook herself out of her morbid thoughts and leaned forward. She tried to peer into the shed. There were thin, uneven gaps between the metal slats, allowing air and a little light to pass through. She heard John Sheppard’s body fall heavily to the ground. “John, what is wrong?”

“I’m okay, I’m fine,” he grunted in response. “My legs are just cramping up. I can’t stand up straight in this damn shed.”

“You should rest for a moment,” she answered back.

“Right, rest,” John mumbled, but Teyla could just see him leaning against one wall and rubbing the palms of his hands over his calves.

“It’s no use,” Ronon announced, standing up. He too was drenched in sweat and dirt. Teyla walked around the shed, a little surprised at the size of the hole he had dug. Ronon kicked the side of the wall he had been trying to dig under. “The walls go deep into the ground. Whoever built this thing didn’t intend for anyone to dig themselves out.”

“Is McKay back yet?” John asked. Teyla could see his face pressed up against one of the gaps in the wall.

“Not yet,” Teyla answered.

“Alright, let’s try something else then.”

Teyla could hear him moving around toward the small door, now sealed shut. The muffled thud let her know he was once again either kicking at the hinges or throwing his shoulder into the frame. The shed may have looked like it was slapped together with spare pieces of metal, but it was deceptively well built—solid and escape proof.

Ronon moved toward the outside of the door and began throwing himself at it. The thud of his body alternated with the thud of John’s body on the other side. Teyla stood off to the side, searching the shed again for another way through. The sun overhead was beating down even more fiercely than before. She glanced at the path leading toward the stargate, wondering why the rescue team was taking so long.

“Sheppard?”

Ronon’s voice caught Teyla’s attention and she leaned toward one of the gaps in the wall to peer inside again.

“John?” She could hear him breathing heavily inside. “John?” She called again.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Cramping up again. Hold on.”

Ronon looked up at Teyla, and she could see the concern in his eyes. “Drink some water, Sheppard,” he said.

“Guys?” John asked a few moments later. His voice sounded rough and low. “Out of water.”

“We have some,” Teyla answered. She squatted down near one of the largest gaps in the wall, roughly the size of her fist and not wide enough to pass one of their canteens through. “Move toward my voice.”

She could hear him grunting quietly as he slid toward her. She could just see the outline of his body as he slumped against the wall. He was breathing heavily, almost panting.

“John,” Teyla said, concern coloring her voice.

“Sorry…cramps…in my arms and legs…aren’t letting up.”

“Lean forward,” Teyla directed, “I’ll pour the water into your mouth.”

“Where the hell is McKay?” Ronon howled, kicking the solid door in frustration. He tapped his radio without waiting for a response. “McKay!”

 _“Here. I’m here. I can’t get through to Atlantis.”_

“What’s wrong?”

 _“Trying to figure that out right now, thank you.”_

“Hurry up.”

There was a slight pause on McKay’s side, and Teyla could picture his look of exasperation and impatience battling over the worry he knew they were all feeling.

 _“How’s Sheppard?”_

“Not getting any cooler,” Sheppard whispered.

“Still baking in that cage, McKay.”

 _“Right, right. I’ll let you know as soon as I get through.”_

Ronon nodded and began prowling around the outside of the shed—the cage. Teyla carefully poured a bit of water through the gap in the wall and hopefully into John’s mouth. She was convinced that he got at least some of it when she heard him cough.

“Sorry,” she said.

“S’okay,” he answered. Neither one moved for another minute, and then she saw him shift slightly against the wall. “So, any ideas?”

ooooooooooooooooooo

 _A few hours earlier…_

The team emerged from the stargate sometime in the mid-morning, planet-time, but it was already scorching hot. Rodney immediately felt beads of sweat building up along his hair line. He wiped his forehead and pulled out sun block. The sun overhead was small and bright yellow, and he could feel the heat beating into his black t-shirt and vest. Some days, he hated their dark uniforms. Nearby, the rest of the team was pulling off layers, and Sheppard was putting on his sunglasses. Rodney glanced up at the pinball of flame raging in the sky overhead and hastily smeared sun block all over his face and arms.

“Alright, folks. Let’s get this mission over with before this heat sucks the life out of us,” Sheppard quipped.

Rodney grimaced at the colonel’s choice of words. “Thank you for that allusion to the Wraith” he muttered. “As if we don’t run into them enough as it is.”

The four of them headed down the path leading to what they presumed was the village. The air was stifling though not quite humid, and the heat seemed to have chased all signs of life into dark, cool holes. They trudged forward in silence, Ronon taking point and Sheppard watching their backs. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back and soaking into his vest.

“This isn’t going to take long, is it? I already feel like crap, and this weather isn’t helping at all. Is it too much to ask for some kind of cool breeze or something?”

“You are sick?” Teyla asked.

Rodney rubbed his chest and stomach against the burning ache. “Sick, yes. Heartburn or something. I ate way too much of that stew Halling made,” he answered, remembering how spicy Halling’s dish had been. They’d all been invited to some Athosian holiday feast the evening before, and other than the stew that had almost burned everyone’s throats beyond recognition, it had been a much needed, relaxing evening.

“I liked the stew,” Ronon announced.

“You would,” Rodney muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ronon asked. He stopped and turned around so quickly that Rodney almost ran right into him. He wondered for a second if the Satedan was just messing with him. He never could tell, and didn’t think it wise to assume the man was joking.

“Let’s just keep moving, guys,” Sheppard called from behind them. “It’s hot enough out here.”

They continued walking, and Rodney looked up in time to see Ronon smirking at Sheppard.

“You’re just nervous because it’s you’re turn to negotiate,” he said.

Rodney turned around and saw the colonel cringe. Memories of Sheppard’s last failed attempt to negotiate came to mind, and he just barely caught himself from laughing out loud. As bad as he was with people skills, Sheppard wasn’t that much better when it came to negotiating treaties. A diplomat, he was not. Rodney took a closer look at Sheppard and thought his neck looked a little redder than it had a few seconds ago. The heat crawling up the man’s face had nothing to do with the sun beating down on them.

“I don’t see why we have to take turns. Why can’t Teyla just do all the negotiating? She’s way better at it than any of the rest of us,” Sheppard griped, rubbing the back of his head.

Ronon and Rodney had both stopped again and turned around to face him. Both their faces were flushed and slick with sweat, and Rodney knew he probably looked beet red, but his discomfort at the heat was momentarily forgotten.

“What’s the matter, Sheppard? Can’t take the heat?” he teased. Ronon guffawed at that, slapping the scientist on the back.

 _It wasn’t that funny,_ Rodney thought, but he was still somewhat relieved that Ronon seemed to be in a good mood despite the sweltering morning. Sheppard looked increasingly uncomfortable. _No doubt glad the hot weather is covering up the fact that he is probably blushing like crazy,_ Rodney thought with a grin. Before Sheppard could come up with a comeback, though, they heard Teyla—who had continued walking ahead of them—gasp.

The team immediately grew serious and turned toward her, bringing their weapons up. The path they’d been walking along crested a hill, and Teyla stood at the top of it. The rest of the team caught up to her, and Rodney found himself looking down into a shallow valley where a once thriving village must have been nestled. Now, however, the buildings and homes were razed to the ground, scorched almost beyond recognition. Rodney could just make out the layout of the village: a small structure at the center of a town plaza, with ruined structures spaced out evenly around it in concentric circles.

“Wraith?” Sheppard asked.

“Looks like it,” Ronon answered.

“This happened recently,” Teyla said, pointing to some of the buildings that still seemed to be smoking.

“Survivors?”

Rodney pulled out his life signs detector and studied it for a moment. Dots blinked on and off sporadically, and he wondered if it was somehow being affected by the heat or if there was something else on this planet causing interference. He tapped the side of it a few times before looking up at Sheppard. “I’m getting some life signs, but they’re blinking on and off sporadically. It could be animals, maybe,” he offered.

“Let’s check it out just in case,” Sheppard answered. He squared his shoulders and headed into the burning remains of the village. Rodney sighed, taking a sip of water from his canteen before trudging after the others.

ooooooooooooooooooo

 _Present time…_

John opened his mouth, trying to catch some of the water Teyla was pouring through the small gap in the wall. Luckily, she was pouring carefully, and he managed to catch most of it. As she lifted the canteen away, a few drops slid down the wrong throat and he coughed.

“Sorry,” she said.

“S’okay,” he answered. He leaned against the wall for another minute and tried to gather his thoughts. He shifted slightly against the wall and managed not to groan at the lingering cramps in his arms and legs.

“So, any ideas?” He asked lightly. He could hear Ronon grunt before the man began hitting the walls of the shed, looking for a weak spot. John closed his eyes, hoping he would find something but knowing that if there was a weak area or an easy way out of this predicament, they would have found it two hours ago.

John wiped the sweat off his forehead. It was dripping into his eyes and starting to sting. His t-shirt was already soaked through. As hot as it had been outside, it was ten times worse in the little shed, literally baking him alive. He’d tried to conserve his water, but he’d gone through it faster than he had intended.

“John, more water.”

John looked over at the widest gap in the shed that was a little smaller than the size of his fist. There was no way they could slip one of their canteens through there. He leaned forward again, opening his mouth as Teyla poured a little more water out of her canteen.

“Thanks,” he rasped. He was starting to feel sick from the heat. He knew there was plenty of fresh air in the little shed, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like he was suffocating. He could make out Ronon on the far side of the building. His friend had stopped and was concentrating his efforts on banging that part of the wall. John crawled toward him, not daring to hope that Ronon was making some headway.

 _How the hell did I get myself into this mess?_ His thoughts turned back to earlier that day. The village had seemed deserted when they’d first caught sight of it, but McKay’s wonky readings from the life signs detector had resulted in them searching the place for survivors just in case. They’d spread out, Ronon and Teyla hitting the edges of the village, he and McKay taking the center.

They’d came across the usual desiccated bodies and no signs of life, and there had been no need for talking. When he had approached the small shed in the center of the village, he’d done so in silence. He had peered through the open doorway into darkness. The shed had been empty, as he had expected, and he had been about to call it a day when something flashed from inside the shed. He’d crawled in and discovered a small piece of mirror in the back corner that had glinted off his flashlight. It had been when he turned around to crawl out that his real problems began.

He’d taken no more than two steps when the door to the shed had slammed shut, trapping him inside. He’d yelled in surprise, and his team had quickly run over to help him. Irritated at his own stupidity for getting stuck in the shed, he had pulled furiously on the door. Even with the combined strength of four of them, however, the door wouldn’t budge. McKay had studied it for awhile, trying to figure out what was keeping it sealed, but to no avail.

At that point, Ronon had begun digging a hole along one of the walls, and John had quickly joined in from his side. Teyla and McKay had continued to walk around the outside, pulling on every slat of metal of the surprisingly well-built little structure, looking for any weak points.

McKay had been the first to admit they would need help and had volunteered to run back to the gate for a rescue team and a blow torch. By that point, John’s legs had begun to cramp up. He was sweating profusely, losing liquids faster than he could keep them in him and becoming more and more dehydrated. With the door of the shed closed, the temperature in the shed was getting hotter at an alarming rate. It was well into midday as well, and the sun beating down on his little oven was relentless.

He’d kept digging until his calf muscles had cramped up so badly that he’d cried out. The shed was too small to stand up in, but if he sat against one wall, he could stretch his legs out in front of him. He rubbed the palms of his hands against his legs, trying to relax the muscles. It had seemed to take a long time, but slowly the cramping eased. He’d taken a swig of water at that point and realized he had just finished the last of it. So much for rationing.

Angry at the stupidity of it all, he’d put all of his energy into the door again. He’d slammed his shoulder into it over and over again, timing it so that he hit it when Ronon did not, but the door remained ominously closed. He’d kept going until both his legs and his arms had cramped up before finally stumbling backward and leaning against the wall. Teyla had told him to rest, and he’d whole heartedly agreed with her suggestion. He could see her peering through the gaps in the walls, trying to see how he was.

Ronon had resumed banging on some part of the wall after the radio call to Rodney revealed that help from Atlantis wouldn’t be immediately forthcoming. John wanted to help him, desperate to get out of this hell hole but found himself unable to stand up and help from his side. His stomach churned with nausea and he felt shaky. _Heat exhaustion, at the very least,_ he thought to himself.

His energy was rapidly depleting. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He could feel fine tremors running through his entire body, and he wrapped his arms around his chest.

“John?”

Teyla’s soft voice startled him. He jerked his head up then immediately closed his eyes as the small gaps of light swam in front of him. He moaned and leaned forward, his head coming to rest near the gap Teyla had been using to give him water.

“John, what is?” She asked.

“Dizzy. Don’t feel so hot all of a sudden,” he mumbled, almost laughing at the unintended pun but then choking on the realization that he really didn’t feel hot. He shivered, surprised that he was actually feeling a little chilly. _When did it get cold?_

“Drink more water,” Teyla commanded. John obediently lifted his head up and opened his mouth, sucking in the water Teyla was carefully pouring through the gap. He shivered again, and his heart felt like it was beating wildly in his chest.

“I feel sick,” he blurted out after he’d gotten a little more water. He put his hands on the ground in an attempt to remain upright. He was beginning to feel more and more like he was about to faint. _Pass out,_ he corrected himself with a faint smile. He swallowed against the nausea, willing himself not to throw up in such a small space.

“Rest, John. Let us do the work to get you out,” Teyla soothed. She was still kneeling next to him. He caught glimpses of her face as she tried to look in at him. He would have smiled at her, blown off her concern with some smart-ass remark, but he just didn’t have the energy for it. If the gap in the wall had allowed it, he knew she would have reached through and grabbed his hand or his shoulder. Instead, there was just enough room for her hand to slip through. Her fingers reached blindly for him and he lifted his own hand toward hers.

“Hold on, John,” she whispered gripping his hand. He didn’t trust his own voice, so didn’t answer. He squeezed her hand in the strongest grip he could muster.

ooooooooooooooooooo

“McKay, where’s our help?” Ronon yelled, taking one final kick at the shed before stepping away.

 _“Still no luck,”_ came McKay’s quick response.

“What about the alpha site?”

 _“Don’t you think I tried that already?”_

“I don’t know, McKay. That’s why I’m asking.”

 _“I tried the alpha site. I can’t get through there, either. I’ve checked the DHD and redialed Atlantis multiple times. There’s nothing wrong on our side. Whatever the problem is, it’s with Atlantis. Happy? I’m doing everything I can.”_

Ronon paused, biting back an angry retort. He wasn’t angry at McKay, but the scientist knew how to push his buttons during a crisis.

“He’s getting worse, McKay,” he said instead. The scientist didn’t immediately answer, and Ronon was about to say something else when he finally spoke.

 _“I’ll check the DHD again. Maybe there was something I missed.”_

Ronon signed off, still seething with frustration at his helplessness in the whole situation. He could hear Teyla talking quietly and steadily to Sheppard. Ronon’s gut clenched at Sheppard’s increasingly weaker responses.

He returned to the hole he’d begun digging over an hour earlier. He’d have to reach the bottom of the wall eventually. As he dug, he listened to Teyla murmuring softly, trying in vain to keep Sheppard coherent and conscious.

“John, look at me. John?”

“Yeah…wwh’t?” Came his quiet response.

“I have water, but you must lean forward so I can pour it into your mouth.”

“Teyla?”

“Yes, John. You need water; you’re suffering from heat exhaustion. Please lean forward.”

“Ccc’ld...”

“What?”

“…mmm…Not hot..c-cold…wwwhy’s it cold?”

Ronon paused in his digging. Sheppard’s voice was beginning to slur badly. He threw the rock he’d been using to dig across the town square in disgust. There had to be more they could do. He would not sit here and do nothing while his friend slowly died. He walked around the shed to where Teyla was kneeling.

“How is he?” He asked.

Teyla shook her head, her face grim. “He grows worse quickly. We do not have much time.”

“Right,” Ronon answered. He rested his hand against the hot metal wall of the shed, his mind racing. He had to do something. Anything. “Sheppard? Hey, Sheppard,” he said, suddenly leaning forward. Through a gap in the wall he could just barely make out the form of his friend. “Sheppard!” He yelled again, more emphatically.

“Huh?…wwwha…?” Sheppard shifted slightly.

“Don’t move. I’m getting you out of there.”

“What are you planning, Ronon?” Teyla asked. She stood up slowly, her legs stiff from kneeling for so long.

“What McKay always accuses me of doing,” he responded. “Shoot first, ask later. Stand back.”

With that, he pulled his gun and switched the setting to kill. Carefully aiming for the corner farthest away from Sheppard, he began firing into the metal structure, over and over and over again. After a few minutes, the metal began to glow red hot. A few minutes after that, Ronon noticed with satisfaction that the wall was beginning to smoke. Next to him Teyla stepped forward.

“I believe it is working,” she said, hope and relief flowing through her voice.

Sure enough, between bursts from his gun, Ronon could see a hole in the wall slowly expanding as the metal melted under the furious blasting of his gun. He kept shooting until the hole looked wide enough for Sheppard to climb out of.

When he stopped, Teyla rushed forward. “John?” She leaned carefully through the hole, then glanced back at Ronon. “The metal is very hot.”

Ronon stepped forward, pulling off his shirt. He laid it carefully over the metal rim of the hole. Teyla nodded at him, grabbing on to his arm for balance as she stepped over the hot metal and into the shed.

“It is very hot in here,” she said as she crouched down. Ronon watched her as she crawled over to Sheppard.

“John?” She called softly. Ronon could see the man in question leaning against the far wall, seemingly unconscious. Teyla tapped his cheek, and Ronon breathed a sigh of relief when Sheppard immediately turned his head toward her.

“John, we have a way out,” Teyla said. “Can you walk?”

Sheppard didn’t respond, but he began to shift around. Teyla reached out to help him sit up. Ronon could see her face dripping in sweat after only a few minutes in the cage. She practically dragged Sheppard over to the hole where Ronon reached in and grabbed his friend by his shoulders. Sheppard was semi-conscious, but his arms and legs flailed limply as Teyla and Ronon wrestled him out of his death trap.

They quickly carried him over to a small patch of grass shaded by a large tree. Ronon grabbed a crate sitting out in front of one of the nearby ruins of a house and used it to elevate Sheppard’s legs. Teyla had pulled out a bandage from her first aid kit, doused it with water, and was wiping his face.

“He is barely sweating. Ronon, help me remove his shirt.”

Ronon kneeled on the other side of Sheppard and helped Teyla lift the languid man. He leaned his friend forward and balanced him against his arm while Teyla pulled the sodden shirt off.

“Nnnooo…” Sheppard mumbled.

“Peace, Sheppard. We’re trying to help you,” Ronon rumbled. As soon as the colonel’s shirt was off, Ronon gently lowered him back to the ground. Sheppard groaned, his eyes fluttering but not quite opening. Ronon rested a hand on his chest, concerned at the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Sheppard was panting as if he was struggling to pull in air.

“His boots, Ronon,” Teyla said.

Ronon pulled of his team leader’s boots as he watched Teyla dribble water from her canteen and wipe it over Sheppard’s chest. Ronon knew the little bit of water she had left would not be enough to cool down the man’s dangerously overheated body, but he said nothing, allowing her to do something. McKay’s canteen lay empty beside her.

She tipped her canteen over completely, shaking the last few drops of water out. Ronon handed over his canteen, only half full, without a word.

“…uuuhh…ss…sstop..pp…”

“Ssshhh, John. It is alright.” Teyla continued to murmur quietly to him as she poured Ronon water’s on his head and neck. Ronon stood up, looking at the path that led to the stargate.

“Should we move him to the stargate?” Ronon asked.

Teyla paused in her ministrations, but before she could answer, their radios chirped to life.

 _“Ronon, Teyla, I got through to Atlantis. Help is on the way.”_

ooooooooooooooooooo

The first thing Carson Beckett noticed when he stepped through the stargate was a wave of stifling heat. The second thing he saw was Rodney McKay standing next to the DHD, his face bright red and sweating. He walked over to the physicist and handed him a canteen of water.

“Oh, thank God,” Rodney exclaimed into his radio. He grabbed the water Carson was holding out to him and gulped down a few swallows before turning to the doctor and the rescue team still emerging from the stargate. “Ronon and Teyla got Sheppard out of that cage-shed thing, but it sounds like he’s in bad shape.”

They walked quickly toward the village, not saying a word. Carson wiped the sweat dripping down his face and wondered what kind of shape he would find the colonel in. It had to be at least 112 degrees Fahrenheit.

“How long was Colonel Sheppard trapped?” He asked, panting slightly at the fast pace the group had set.

“Over two and a half hours, maybe almost three,” Rodney answered, looking at his watch.

When they hit the village plaza, Carson immediately spotted Ronon and Teyla under the shade of a large tree at the far end, and he broke into a jog. Sheppard was laying on the grass next to them, his bare feet propped up on a crate. They had his shirt off and Teyla was trying to wipe him down with the little bit of water they had left.

He reached them quickly and dropped to his knees near John’s head. Teyla scooted backward to make room for Carson and his medical team, but she stayed close by, her eyes never leaving John.

“Colonel? Can you hear me?” Carson asked. He tapped the man’s face then chest, and was reward by a slight groan. John’s eyes fluttered open for a second, then slid shut.

“Get an IV going, and pull out those ice packs. We’ve got to get his core body temperature down fast,” he directed. His medics moved quickly, and they soon had John on a stretcher.

Carson bit his lip in concern even has he continued to work calmly and quickly. John had hardly reacted to being moved to the stretcher or packed with the chemical ice packs he carried in his bag. The doctor pulled an oxygen mask over the listless man’s face and checked his heartbeat. The pulse was too fast.

“Careful,” he admonished as two Marines lifted their commanding officer between them. Ronon had stepped up to help, but Carson had waved him off, telling him to take a break and drink some water. He and Teyla both looked as flushed as Rodney, maybe even more so, and Carson pushed canteens of water into their hands.

In another minute, the whole group set out toward the stargate. As they passed the small, metal shed where John had been trapped, Carson shook his head in amazement at the hole that had been melted out of one side. Rodney must have seen the hole as well.

“How’d you do that anyway?” He asked.

“Shot it,” Ronon grunted. Carson glanced back at him and noticed the Satedan keeping his eyes trained on the stretcher in front of him and not bothering to look at the shed that had caused so many problems. Behind him, McKay stared thoughtfully at the metal structure.

“Why did it take so long to get through to Atlantis?” Ronon asked

“Problem at the alpha site,” Carson answered. “It came under attack and we had a few groups of Marines that got stranded over there. We had to keep the gate open to them until they could get home safety so that the Wraith wouldn’t dial out and trap them.”

“Every time I tried to dial Atlantis, it wouldn’t go through because their gate was already active,” Rodney added. “Hey, that explains why we couldn’t get through to the Alpha site, either.”

“Is everyone alright?” Teyla asked.

“Aye, luckily. There were a few minor injuries, but everyone got back safely.”

The stargate appeared in front of them, and a minute later they found themselves in the cool gate room of Atlantis. Carson breathed a sign of relief as the heat of the other planet suddenly dissipated. The Marines deposited the colonel on the waiting gurney, and whisked him away to the infirmary. With a tight nod to the others, he followed after the sick man.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Bringing John Sheppard’s body temperature back down to normal was its own exercise in terror. When it was determined that the ice packs weren’t working fast enough, Carson ordered a tepid bath to be drawn and John immersed in the cool water. The doctor kept a close eye on his respiration and heart beat, and put a rush on the blood tests that needed to be done.

John’s team sat in the waiting room in various states of exhaustion, dehydration, and worry. It wasn’t until Carson came out hours later to inform them with relief that they’d managed to bring the colonel’s temperature down to just under 102 degrees that the three agreed to go get some rest. Even then, they insisted on seeing that John really was alright for themselves before stumbling to their own quarters.

By the next morning, John’s temperature was almost normal. Carson smiled, pleased at the results as he adjusted the cooling blankets and fans. The results of the other tests he’d run were back as well, and all indications were that John would not suffer any permanent problems.

“Carson?”

The doctor turned around at the sound of his name, not surprised to see Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney all standing behind him and looking worriedly at their friend. They looked refreshed—for the most part, rested and cool—but an air of anxiety hung over all of them.

“He’s fine,” Carson said, trying to reassure them. He waved his hand at the nasal cannula and IVs. “His body temperature is almost back to normal, and he’s no longer dehydrated. The results of the tests we ran are back as well. He’ll be on his feet again in a few days.”

The three smiled, taking up their usual positions around his bed: Rodney on one side, Teyla on the other, and Ronon near the foot of the bed. Carson patted Teyla’s shoulder as he passed by and saw her smile gratefully up at him.

It was as he was passing through on his rounds later that he heard soft voices coming from the group. He walked closer and was pleased to hear one of those voices was John’s.

“Colonel,” he said, stepping forward.

“Hey, doc,” John answered. He was propped up in the bed and laughing still at something Rodney had said. He looked worn out but ten times better than when he’d been brought in.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired, hot maybe. Kind of achy.”

“…mmm…” Carson mumbled, listening but focused on his patient’s vitals. “You’re temperature is back to normal. We’ll have to monitor it for another day or two, and your muscles will probably be sore for a bit, but you should be right as rain by the end of the week.”

“Glad to hear it, doc,” John answered.

“Are ya hungry at all? I can have a nurse bring you up some lunch.”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

Carson nodded with satisfaction. “I’ll leave you be then.” He looked over at John’s teammates. “Don’t keep him up too long. He still needs to rest.”

“Of course, Carson,” Teyla answered.

“We’ve got another trade mission scheduled for next week,” Rodney piped up. “We’ll make sure he’s all rested and recovered for it. After all, it’s still his turn to negotiate.”

“This was my turn!” John sputtered. “Not my fault there was no one to negotiate with. Next week is Ronon’s turn.”

“Not gonna happen, Sheppard.”

“Aw, come on, guys.”

“Didn’t I tell you he can’t take the heat?”

“Rodney!” All three of them cried out. There was a second’s pause before all four of them started laughing, followed by John’s declaration that his turn for negotiating was still over. Carson backed away, shaking his head at their friendly argument but relieved to be hearing the banter once again.

END 


End file.
